


Song Wars

by levele3



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Radio, F/M, Gen, Radio Host rivals, Strange Magic modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4847414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levele3/pseuds/levele3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marianne Fay and Sherman "Swampy" Bog are both radio DJ's who work at rival stations. Both stations are suffering from low ratings as Marianne tries to ditch her boring morning show routine and Bog's late night rock show is slowly loosing it's popularity. When Marianne starts her own late night show the ratings go up, for both stations. Tune in as the two duke it out in a battle of musical whit. </p><p>A little bit "you've got mail."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Saw this movie and instantly fell in love with it. This is my idea for a different modern AU. Hope you like it :)

“Mornings with Marianne and Roland” the cheery jingle rang out “six AM till noon, Monday to Friday on 42.9 FAE FM.”

Sherman “Swampy” Bog had just turned on his car looking forward to a peaceful drive home from his late night shift at the radio station. It was too early for the happy couple on the rival station but his mother enjoyed listening to them. She believed they were a perfect couple that proved ‘real love’ still existed.

He groaned as the male half of the duo’s voice came through the car speakers. Roland Fig had a sickening southern accent that twisted everything he said into something positive.

‘There’s an accident on the i90 but don’t you worry about that we’ll get you though it with this next song’ or ‘major construction is blocking Main Street, maybe your boss is stuck in traffic too!’

This morning Roland greeted the listeners with a grating ‘morning y’all’ and Bog made a fake gagging noise and reached out to turn off the stereo all together when his co-host spoke.

“Thanks for tuning in, we _love_ spending our mornings with you!” Marianne Fay on the other hand was pleasant to listen to. Her voice didn’t make him want to cut off his ears and she usually gave Roland a run for his money when debating on the topic of the day.

FAE FM was known for their compilation of new and classic pop songs and lite rock. They had no late night program to rival Bog’s and most of their ratings came from the morning program.

Bog pulled the rusty old Buick out into traffic and began his drive home. He was the king of late night radio on 30.9 DARK FM. He played mostly classic rock and heavy metal. During the day Stuff and Thang played newer music under the supervision of his mother Griselda the station manager. He had never got used to the fact everyone else was just getting up to go to work when he was just getting off.

“Marianne I’ve got me a serious question for you this fine spring morning” Roland’s voice cracked through the speakers.

“And what might that be?” she asked back, a little tense.

“Marianne, darlin’, light o’ my life, will you marry me?” Roland asked.

Bog hit the brakes a little too hard to stop himself from running into the car ahead of him. The recoil slamming him back into his seat as a high pitched squeal of surprise peaked the audio levels emitted through the tiny stereo.

“Yes of course!” Marianne gushed excitedly into her mic.  

Elvis Presley’s _I can’t help falling in love with you_ started to play and that was his breaking point.

Bog groaned as if in physical pain then with a quick snap of his wrist shut the radio off. He hated spring and love, but declarations of love the most. How cheesy he thought being proposed to over the radio like that. She should have said no. If his mother had been listening he was sure she would have thought it ‘cute’, maybe even ‘romantic.’

Traffic started moving again and he looked up as if to ask ‘why me?’ and saw to his displeasure a billboard for FAE FM with a giant picture of the happy couple plastered all over it. Roland with his shiny blond curls and green eyes, Bog thought he might have to pull over and be sick. In the photo Roland was twirling a stray piece of hair around his finger he and Marianne were leaning against each other’s back. Marianne had short brown hair with blonde highlights that had that artificial windswept look that came from half a bottle of gel. Big bright hazel eyes and a perfect pearly white smile shone down on all of Meadow City. There would never be billboards with his face on it that’s for sure.

He had an exaggeratedly pointed chin with a permanent four o’clock shadow and high sharp cheekbones. Untameable eyebrows that looked more like a pair of fuzzy caterpillars occupied part of his wide forehead and his mossy brown hair that stuck up at odd angles in the front was now flecked with grey at 36 years of age, and his skin was a pale grey colour from spending most of his time indoors. He was tall and awkward standing at just over seven feet and his arms were too long no matter how he held them. His eyes were too close together, his ears were too big, and smack dab in the middle was a large hooked nose. His teeth were crooked and a few were even chipped, his family being too poor to afford dental work when he was little. He was always surprised mirrors didn’t crack when he smiled at them. It was a face only a mother could love.

He had tried online dating once a few years back but it hadn’t worked out. It had been great while the two sent messages over the computer but when they finally decided to meet the woman had never shown up. Bog had picked his favourite café a small quiet place where they could talk that had a large window that looked out on a park. Bog suspected the woman must have walked by and saw him waiting inside and left. He had sent her numerous e-mails and messages but she’d never replied to any of them. With no apology and no explanation, he had simply given up on the idea of ever finding love again.

His mother a stout and stubborn woman would not give up on him that easy and often brought around new potential female hostesses to intrigue him. No Bog thought as he pulled his car into the underground parking of the apartment building where he lived with his mother, he was better off on his own. He didn’t need anyone else, he didn’t need love. Love was for the weak, it turned order into chaos. Besides his work schedule left little to no time for dating, he planned it that way.

Bog looked out the window of his sparse bedroom it looked like it was going to be a nice day, too bad he had to sleep. With that he shut the curtain blocking out all the light and climbed into bed falling asleep almost instantly.


	2. Chapter 1

For the last two months Marianne’s wedding had been the talk of Meadow City and the day had finally arrived bright and sunny. Social media sites were buzzing and #FayFig was trending on Twitter. Marianne was dashing about to and fro as her younger sister Dawn helped her with finishing touches, notably the daisy chain crown. It was difficult because Marianne wouldn’t sit still she was flitting around humming Beyoncé’s _Crazy in Love_.

Marianne had been up at the crack of dawn with nerves and had switched on the bedside radio in the hotel room, to her surprise it was tuned to DARK FM. Marianne didn’t often listen to the late night show, the “Swamp King” broadcasted between 10PM and 5AM and as Marianne had to be up early to host her own show she missed out on the DARK side of radio. She liked the genre of music he played and his voice, a rough Scottish brogue, was soothing in its own way.

“Before signing off today I’d like to wish a happy wedding day to the love birds over at FAE. Marianne and Roland, this one’s for you.” Billy Idol’s _White Wedding_ started playing and Marianne tried and failed to not laugh. She had never met the King of late night radio but he sure had a sense of humor she thought.

It was the perfect start to a perfect day! Nothing anyone said or did was going to bring her down. She was young, a spry 24 and in love, and today she was getting married.

Around mid-morning, when Dawn had finally gotten her to sit still the pre-wedding jitters came and Marianne became self-conscious.

“Do you think Roland loves me, for me?” she asked giving Dawn a quirky half-smile.

“How could he not” her sister dismissed with a wave of her hand. “He asked you to marry him, didn’t he?”

“Yeah but he keeps trying to get dad to make changes to the radio station and I like it the way it is.” Marianne couldn’t explain this gnawing feeling that had suddenly come over her. Something wasn’t right.

“Just wait till he sees you. I promise the look on his face will make it up to you.” Dawn gushed trying to lighten her sister’s unexplainable dark mood.

“Yeah I guess” Marianne conceded trying to convince herself more so than Dawn.

It was almost noon and Marianne was just about ready to go when she overheard one of the groomsmen telling Dawn no one had seen Roland yet. That was odd, hadn’t someone checked his room? Surely he received a wakeup call just like everyone else?

“I still have his boutonniere” the groomsman said holding out the pale pink rose. Marianne didn’t even know the guy’s name; they all looked the same to her. She hadn’t really met a lot of Roland’s friends before today.

“I’ll give it to him” Marianne said grabbing it from the guy, she took off running down the hall in her heels and long flowy dress. Thankful she had gone for a sleek and slender design rather than princess poufy. It was sleeveless and white feathers trimmed the V neck and around the back of neck.

“Wait, Marianne! It’s bad luck if he sees you!” Dawn had called after her.

Marianne ignored the warning marching down the hall to the room she had booked for her and Roland to spend their wedding night in. It was the honeymoon suite at the Fairmont Hotel the nicest place to have a wedding in the whole city. They had a beautiful botanical garden that was perfect for the kind of ceremony Marianne had always dreamed of having. Simple yet elegant, it was to be a small ceremony with only close friends and family in attendance. Roland had urged her for something bigger, grander but it wasn’t what _she_ wanted.

Her and Roland hadn’t been together very long they had only been officially dating for a few months when he’d asked her on air to marry him. She had thought it romantic at the time, if a little hasty and now less than two months later they were getting married. ‘Fools rush in’ indeed.

Marianne knocked on the door earnestly and called out, “Roland, are you in there?”

At first there was no answer but then she heard what sounded like a woman’s giggle.

She banged on the door until at last her fiancé dared to show his face.

“Buttercup” he gushed upon seeing her, his southern drawl coming out strong. He twirled an errant blonde curl around his finger and leaned awkwardly against the door frame. He wasn’t even close to being ready, dressed only in the white terry-towel bathrobe supplied by the hotel. He did his best to block the room behind his broad shoulders but there was no hiding the petite cleaning maid still lounging in the bed.

Marianne’s eyes flashed in anger and she threw his boutonniere down on the ground and squashed it under her heeled foot before running back down the hall tears streaming down her face. If he tried calling after her she didn’t hear him. There was nothing he could have said anyway to make her change her mind. They were finished.

Dawn was still waiting outside her room in her bridesmaid dress and was shocked by the state her sister was in.

“Marianne, what happened?” she asked full of genuine concern.

Not yet 21 Dawn was so innocent, so blind to the cruelty of the world that Marianne couldn’t face it to tell her the truth. Dawn had short flings she had never really fallen in love and so had never had her heart broken. Marianne balked at her own naivety; Roland was a lying cheater and she hadn’t really known him at all. She had been a fool who had merely fallen for his outward appearance of Southern charm and good looks. Did he even know her favourite band was ELO? Or that her favourite colour was purple? Had they ever had a ‘real’ conversation?

No it was better to preserve Dawn’s innocence in light of the whole ordeal so instead she said, “Tell dad the wedding is off” through some painful sobs before shutting the door gently in her sister’s face, tears still coming freely, nose all snotty, and mascara ringing her eyes.

~~***~~

“Well folks the painful truth is out, the wedding of the year has been called off indefinitely for undisclosed reasons. I mean I could have told you it wasn’t going to last _long_ , but I thought they’d at least make it to the ceremony.” The cynical Scot said.

Marianne had shut herself away in the hotel room refusing to come out for anyone including her father, her sister, and Roland himself. She had cried herself to sleep sometime late in the afternoon and woke up again just before 10 and had the brilliant idea that listing to some classic rock music might help take her mind off the awful day. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

It had started off alright he had opened the program with his classic intro song _Welcome to the Jungle_ and followed it with _Thunderstruck_. It had gone downhill after that. The Swamp King’s timber was grating tonight as he mocked her failed wedding. He had teased and taunted her unaware she was listening in. He speculated on the possible reasons for the wedding falling through and came uncomfortably close to the truth.

At one point Marianne had the hotel phone in her hand ready to call in and knock him off his pedestal he was having such a go at her expense. A few others had called in on her behalf sticking up for her, saying she probably had a good reason. Others, mostly men seemed to take Roland’s side automatically.

“Sure, everyone defends the princess but no one has thought about the consequences this will have on their little morning show” Swampy teased cruelly, “and what about poor Roland? Next caller, you’re on the air.”

“Leave her alone” a small but mighty voice came through the radio and Marianne perked up. _Dawn?_ She thought.

“Clearly you have never been in love or had your heart broken or else you would know what she is going through and leave her alone” yup that was Dawn defending her big sister to the last iota. A wave of affection ran through Marianne and all she wanted was to give Dawn a big hug.

On the other hand Dawn’s abrasiveness had made the Swamp King go silent finally striking a cord.

“Yes, well then.” He made a throat clearing noise then introduced the next song and Marianne switched off the radio.

~~***~~

Marianne was glad she hadn’t listened to the whole thing when her father presented her with a transcript of the program the next morning at breakfast in the hotel’s luxurious dining room. Oberon Fay was a large man and a kind and caring father. He ran the FAE radio station but like any good father he didn’t always completely understand his daughters.

“What’s this?” she asked after glancing down at the paper and not really looking at it.

“Swampy made some interesting points on his show last night” her father said, pointing at the paper. “With you and Roland not speaking who _will_ host the morning show?”

“I can do it alone” she said, brimming with sudden confidence. Before hiring Roland, Marianne had been promised her own show. Her father’s excuse at the time was that it was better to have two hosts but Marianne had the nagging feeling he believed she couldn’t do it on her own.

“You, what about Roland?” her father asked. “He had some good ideas you know about switching genres. Country music _is_ very popular now, we should think about adding some in.”

“I hate country music” Marianne growled curling her hands into tiny fists, “as for Roland fire his ass!” She was not losing her job over her pinhead of an ex. She would flat out refuse to work with him if that’s what it took.

“Marianne, you know I can’t do that. There’s contracts and paper work that needs to be fixed. If you told me what happened.” Her father pleaded then stopped seeing the look of pain cross her face.

“We’ve got a week to decide” she said diplomatically if a little surly.

Just then Sunny Leaf bounced into the dining room, he moved to the tunes blasting through his red Beats headphones and Marianne had a great idea. Sunny was a good friend to Dawn and enjoyed working at the station as a technical assistant but he had the personality of a host, he was outgoing and quick-witted.

“What about Sunny as my co-host?” she asked keeping her options open.

Sunny stopped in his tracks when Marianne said his name.

“Sunny is getting his own program” Oberon said wisely.

“He is?” asked Marianne a little stunned.

“I am?” asked Sunny even more stunned than Marianne.

“Yes, I was going to tell you later today. You’ll have the noon to four PM slot.” He explained.

“Wow, that’s a real honour sir, thanks, I won’t let you down.” Sunny shook Mr. Fay’s hand very enthusiastically before going off to breakfast.

“So who’s going to be our new tech?” Marianne asked, afraid of the answer.

“Well your sister is keen about the prospect; she’ll be a temporary replacement until I can hire someone new. I’ll be honest with you honey, the ratings are down, we might not be in business much longer.” His disappointment showed.

Marianne was floored. She had worked her whole life in radio it was the only thing she knew. She had gone to the best broadcasting school expecting to take over the station.

“I really want to try it on my own, dad, please.” She gave up her best smile, the one used for those awful promo pictures and her father relented.

“Alright honey, we’ll see.” He said.

~~***~~

“You got a lot of nerve showing up here this morning” Marianne hissed at Roland as he took his usual seat across from her in the recording room the following Monday morning. Cup of coffee in hand he looked too relaxed acting as if nothing was wrong.

“Me? You were the one who called off the wedding, remember?” he asked back cool and calm as ever.

“You cheated on me, _remember?_ ” she hissed back unable to believe he would stoop so low.

“Alright now everybody we go live in five minutes” Marianne’s father said coming into the control room.

“Dad, what is _he_ doing here?” Marianne asked accusingly, pointing her finger at Roland.

“He works here Marianne, you two will just have to get along for the next little while. I’m sorry.” He turned and walked back to the control panel where a yawning Dawn sat behind the overwhelming array of knobs and levers.

After a week of fill-ins and guest stars Bog turned on his car to hear Marianne’s voice coming through the speakers.

“Dawn, she’s my sister, is in the control room this morning” Marianne pointed out proudly.

There was a moment of feedback and then Dawn’s voice could be heard, “good morning Meadow City!”

Bog wasn’t sure his eardrums could handle that much perky this early in the day.

“Thank you Dawn” Marianne said dryly, obviously suffering from the same problem.

“And now the weather” Bog tuned out as Marianne yammered on about possible rain showers and cloudy periods, he just wanted to be at home and in bed.

“Please give a warm welcome to our guest this morning Matchmaker and Love Guru extraordinaire Sugar Plum!” Roland introduced their guest.

Bog almost couldn’t believe his ears how were the two exes expected to continue working together; that was a cruel form of punishment. He curled his nose in disgust at the radio at the mention of Sugar Plum. It had been her dating website he had tried and failed so miserably on.

“Miss Plum, what do you suggest is a good way to win back a woman’s heart?” he asked laying on his accent thick. Bog could almost picture him leaning on the recoding table and making gooey-eyes at Marianne.

“Don’t” came Marianne vicious reply.

Plum had obviously been booked in for the happy couple’s first day back to talk all about the joys of being married and in love. They must not have been able to cancel on such short notice. Marianne had the disposition of an icicle and Roland was acting as if nothing was wrong.

“Oh honey you can never go wrong with a little apology and a cute song.” Plum replied in her own perky tone.

“Ugh, don’t give him ideas” Marianne made a gag noise and Bog couldn’t help it when he gave a small chuckle. Apparently he and Marianne now had something in common, they both hated love.

“Sounds like you got your work cut out for you baby, you may need something a little stronger. May I suggest my new love potion?” The guru plugged her latest project.

 _A love potion?_ Bog thought skeptically, he was fairly sure it already existed and was called alcohol. What con would this woman come up with next?

Roland of course fell for the ploy.

“Are you saying I need a love potion?” He asked suspiciously

“Honey it’s so easy anyone can use it, and it’s guaranteed to work.” Plum boasted.

“Guaranteed you say?” he asked clearly coming around to the idea.

“Don’t even think about coming anywhere near me with that” Marianne suddenly jumped in, frosty as ever.

“Ah now Buttercup don’t get all suspicious.” Roland cooed. Marianne narrowed her eyes at him.

“And that cues our next song.” Marianne jibed, Elvis Presley’s _Suspicious Minds_ started playing and Bog relaxed a little, he liked Elvis.

Summer construction season was well under way and the traffic this morning was very stop-and-go. Bon Jovi’s _you give love a bad name_ followed suit and that was followed by the morning traffic report. Clearly the two were taking digs at each other with their song choices and Bog found it mildly entertaining.

Sugar Plum took a few calls, and gave out some more _awful_ relationship advice. Marianne set up another song and Pink’s _So What_ started playing. This was the last song Bog heard from the morning show as he reached his apartment just as it ended.

He had his own problems to worry about. His mother had informed him his own ratings were starting to slip. During the day DARK had very few listeners Bog’s show was basically what kept the station running if his ratings slipped anymore the whole thing would be shut down.

Hosting a radio show was all he had, he liked the late night gig he could play whatever he wanted and say whatever he wanted.

“Ever since you started taking digs at that poor girl your ratings have gone down.” His mother had told him this morning.

For the past week almost every show Bog had brought up something about the failed wedding between Marianne and Roland and now he was paying for it. The worst part was every time he did, he remembered that caller from the first night who had called him out on his bullshit. He had known or at least thought he knew what to be in love felt like, and the heartbreak that came afterwards had made him terribly bitter. Marianne was now suffering through the same type of thing and he’d been less than kind about it.


	3. Chapter 2

Marianne was fuming by the time noon rolled around and Sunny took their place in the recording studio. Roland escorted Professor Plum out of the building still asking for hints and tips about winning back Marianne.

“Here’s Sunny” he said, “with your tunes at noon.” He gave a small awkward laugh then went straight into playing. Sunny played a good mixture of reggae and hip-hop, keeping the tone light and fresh for the afternoon crowd.

Marianne turned her murderous glare in her father’s direction. “Father, may I have a word” she gritted out as calmly as she could.

“Not now sweetie I’ve got an important business meeting.” He said, clearly deflecting.

“You said I could have my own show!” Marianne bellowed at him doing nothing to help her cause.

“I said we would see, Roland really is sorry for the misunderstanding and wanted to give it another try.” Her father was grasping at straws.

People liked Roland with his good looks and quaint way with words. He was the kind of young man grandmothers adored. Guys wanted to be him and girls wanted to be with him. He couldn’t understand how his daughter had fallen out of favour with him so fast especially when she couldn’t give him a reason. As long as people liked Roland their ratings would stay up.

“Misunderstanding? He called it a misunderstanding?” Marianne screeched in frustration.

Marianne stormed from the radio station determined to be anywhere but there. She hopped into her red convertible Volkswagen Beetle and drove off, her short hair whipping in the wind. Tomorrow would be another day, a better day.

Tuesday was not a better day. When Bog got in his car to leave work and head home for the day he had no idea what torture he would have to endure. He was tempted to just turn off the stereo all together but his interest was piqued with the first words he heard.

“I’m here to apologize” Roland’s voice came through the old speakers loud and clear, “with a song.”

He hit play before the mic’s were turned off and there was an awful noise as a slightly country sounding version of _Come on Marianne_ started to play he hadn’t heard before.

Marianne actually felt her jaw come unhinged and was left momentarily speechless.

“Oh well done you, how long did it take you to find a song with my _name_ in it?” Marianne asked her voice coming in over the music. She sounded furious.

“Dawn put on a song” she shouted to her sister. Marianne lunged for the tape recorder clutched protectively in Roland’s hand as he held it close to the mic.

“Woah now Darlin’ just back it up” Roland protested as he slowly inched away from the mic.

Dawn finally found the perfect song and hit play, Kelly Clarkson’s _Stronger_ was suddenly blasting through the speakers only Dawn hadn’t turned off the studio mic’s and the background noise could still be heard by anyone listening in.

“Give me that tape recorder so I can shove it down your throat.” Marianne threatened. The pause button must have got hit in the scuffle as _Come on Marianne_ could no longer be heard playing.

“Aw now Buttercup, ya didn’t let my song finish” Roland interjected coming back in to proximity with a mic. There was a ruffling commotion and he hit play on his recorder, his own melodic voice floating through the airwaves.

Marianne pushed Roland away from the mic and _Stronger_ could be heard playing again. Marianne forced him up against the wall by the door, she smiled gleefully and gave him a push through it as she waved and said “Bye-bye.”

The little display was followed by the sound of a door slamming.

“Now that was fun” Marianne declared as she sat back at the desk, beaming brightly at her sister and father through the glass.

A small sounding “Awkward” escaped Dawn in the impending silence.

“Dawn, honey, were still on the air” came a hushed man’s voice that could only be the station manager.

“Oh!” Dawn exclaimed then promptly hit the off switch and set up a commercial break.

Bog wasn’t exactly sure what he had just listened to. There was a second of silence then a commercial for this summer’s Shakespeare production came on. “Come see the magic and mayhem that is William Shakespeare’s _A Midsummers Night’s Dream_ ” a booming voice declared “running from now until the end of August located in Puck’s Corner of Meadow City’s Field Park.”

By the time a gum commercial played and an ad for some greatest hits CD ended Marianne was back on air and evidently taking calls.

“I thought that was kind of romantic” said some guy who sounded like he was talking through the wrong end of the phone.

 _You Would_ Bog thought, he could feel a migraine coming on. It wasn’t romantic; no body deserved what had just happened to that poor girl. It was bad enough that idiot had proposed to her on air and now had further humiliated her by trying to apologize for his actions with a song about a cheater.

“Aw, poor Rollie” cooed a teenaged bimbo.

“Next caller please” Marianne said, hanging up on the bimbo. “Hi you’re on the air” she said when another call was patched through.

“You go girl!” said a woman with a grating voice.

“Mother?” he asked the radio out loud, shock evident on his features to anyone who may have spied him through his car window.

“You’re an independent woman and you don’t need no man!” Yup that was his mother; she had one of those voices like Fan Drescher or Meggie Wheeler.

“Oh, well thank you” Marianne responded sheepishly to his mother’s compliment.

Two weeks ago she had been their biggest supporter and now she was glad the girl was solo? It wasn’t worth it for his lack of sleep brain to process.

The next caller was another woman who after commending her on her style in giving Roland the boot began propositioning her.

“I have a son, he’s single too, I’d just know you’d hit it off” the caller gushed.

“Listen lady, I’m sure your son is a lovely person,” Marianne began, and Bog could hear the eye rolling, “but until I met a guy who can take me by the hand, look into my eyes, and I don’t want to hit him, I’d rather be single.” She finished dryly. “And let’s face it that’s _never_ gunna happen.”

Something inside Bog stirred, he liked this girl’s spunk and bite back attitude. He never thought he would find someone as cynical and uncaring as him. She was feisty, with a great sense of humor, and emotionally unavailable, exactly his type.

Marianne took two more calls before giving the traffic report and popping on _Hit the road Jack_. Bog laughed heartily at Marianne’s open shaming of her ex, between that and Roland’s own faults it would give him excellent fodder for his show tonight.

~~***~~

“I have no idea what I ever saw in him” Marianne shouted in frustration after going off air “that good for nothing liar.”

Dawn was giving her sympathy eyes through the glass when their father walked back in with a tall artificially blonde woman in tow.

“Girls I’d like you to meet Mrs. Elizabeth Scales” he said.

“Please call me Lizzy, and it’s Miss.” She was the most intimidating woman Marianne had ever seen. She looked sharp in a short black pencil skirt and matching blazer, completing the look with a light grey blouse with dark heavy eye make-up and red alligator heels with a matching handbag to pop.

Marianne steeped forward to politely shake her hand and noticed the woman kept her nails long and filed into a point.

“Hi-ya Miss Lizzy” Dawn cooed excitedly, “so are you here to be the new host?”

“Oh, no darling after the fiasco the past two days have been, I’m here to be the program director.” She smiled what Marianne assumed was supposed to be a friendly smile but it came off looking like she was going to devour Dawn.

Just then Sunny walked through the door backwards and walked right into Lizzy. He was humming _three little birds_ and carrying a box of vinyl records, wearing his Beats as usual.

The spindly woman spun around with shocking agility and clamped her claws down on his shoulder. “Ah, and you must be Sunny” she breathed down his neck.

Sunny gulped and his eyes widened at the lengthy shellac nails imbedded in his shoulder, “Yes mam” he said, his voice small with a ‘please don’t eat me’ undertone.

“I’m here to change a few things Sunny.” She explained, giving a repeat of her man-eating grin causing Sunny to squirm.

~~***~~

After the week she had Marianne just wanted to rock out to some classic tunes and relax for a while. That’s why around 9:30 on Friday night she was sneaking back into the radio station. She had waved and smiled at Mr. Pare the elderly nighttime security guard and informed him she just had some paperwork to do and not to worry. Instead of heading to the main control room Marianne found her way to the practice space students used when training. She would play a few girl-power songs about how it was better to be alone and that all guys sucked and then she’d be on her way.

A thought struck her as she sat down behind the switchboard though. This was her chance to prove all those naysayers wrong. She could run a radio show all by herself, she would show Roland and her father how wrong they were. It was her turn to take digs at Swampy. Late night meant no censors.  

The longer she sat there the bolder Marianne became. She started turning on the gear, warming up the mic, she was going to do this. As ten o’clock drew nearer and people began turning on their radios to tune into DARK they got the surprise of their lives when a gruff female voice spat out “Welcome to the Bitching Hour” and kicked things off with _I’ll Never Fall in Love Again_. She followed that with Cher’s version of _Love Hurts_ and Quaterflash’s _Harden my Heart_.

Pat Benatar’s _Love is a Battlefield_ had just finished playing when a bodiless voice from somewhere behind her spoke.

“Would you quit it with the breakup songs already?”

~

Bog had sat down behind his work station with everything ready to go. At first he hadn’t noticed his mother had left her radio on, the one she used to listen to FAE in the mornings. This time of night they were off air and only a faint hint of white noise was leaking through the speakers. It was a sound that brought a strange comfort to him, made him feel not so alone. He got underway with AC/DC’s _For those About to Rock_ and thought no more about.

When he went to start his opening monologue though Bog could suddenly hear a strange background noise as if someone was standing behind him with their iPod turned up too loud. He struggled through his set up speech and put on another song until at last he could no longer concentrate. He took off his headphones and spinning around in his chair was shocked to discover the source of the music was in fact the radio.

He was furious; there had been no mention of FAE starting their own late night program he would surely lose all his listeners if Roland was running the show. It quickly became obvious it was not Roland playing the music though. He steadily became more and more annoyed by the playlist until he had finally bellowed at the damn thing “Would you quit it with the breakup songs already?”

Unfortunately his latest song had just stopped playing and his mic had turned back on. People listening in would have heard him and have no clue as to what he was going on about. For a moment there was nothing but white noise, and then it spoke back.

~

Marianne looked all around in confusion for a moment before realising the voice had come from an old forgotten radio behind her.

“What?” she asked out loud, clearly she was hallucinating from lack of sleep and if anyone was listening to her at all they would think she was talking to herself.

“Are, are you talking to me?” the radio asked slightly surprised, Marianne vaguely wondered if all radios had Scottish accents.

“Do you see anyone else here?” she asked losing her cool, opening her hands in a palms up gesture. Now she was arguing with a radio, maybe she should call it a night.

~

Bog looked around his own control room wondering if this was some kind of a prank by his co-workers. He thought about calling out for Stuff or Thang, or even Brutus but he was sure he was alone.

“What do you want?” he finally asked the radio raising an eyebrow at it. He had spent hundreds of nights alone here had he finally gone around the bend?

There was a moment of silence in which Bog crept closer to the radio, maybe he had fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing? Bog almost had his ear right up to the speakers when Twisted Sisters _I wanna Rock_ came blaring out of it sending him scrambling back from it coving his ears. Not because he didn’t like the song, he just didn’t like it at that decibel.

“Well, well” he finally drawled into his mic, “for those of you not in the know it seems we have a new friend over at FAE. A tough girl with a since of humor it seems.” He twisted his lip in a cruel smile he knew no one could see; it was time to have some fun.

~

Marianne couldn’t believe the old radio still worked let-alone was tuned into DARK. She hadn’t even noticed its din while she was blasting her own music trying to purge Roland from her mind. What did she want? He had some nerve asking her that. She wanted independence, she wanted her own show, she wanted to rock! Instead of saying all this out loud she condensed her emotions into a song.

It wasn’t long before she got her reply. A grungy rock version of Elvis Presley’s _Trouble_ starts playing, and it’s like a response and a warning. So the almighty Swamp King wanted to play did he? She wouldn’t disappoint, the next few hours were going to be a lot of fun.


	4. Chapter 3

“Marianne!” Shrieked Dawn the following morning running into her sister’s bedroom and pouncing on her. “You were amazing last night! I knew it was you but of course I didn’t tell anybody. Dad was so mad at first when he heard someone broke into the radio station and then Lizzie called him with the numbers and she was so thrilled, couldn’t believe he hadn’t told her about the late night show. He totally took all the credit talked about change and stuff like it was his idea, but he doesn’t even know it was you.”

Marianne was having a hard time processing her sister’s train of thought she looked at the clock and groaned; she had only managed to glean about three hours of sleep, not near enough to function on let-alone keep up a conversation with her fast-talking sister.

“Dawn slow down” Marianne begged, “Start at the beginning.”

Dawn took a deep breath seeming to realise the situation she had put her sister in.

“The beginning, ok, so last night I was getting ready to hang out with Sunny and decided to put on the radio for some pump-up tunes. You have no idea how surprised I was when Swampy started acting strangely, like he was talking to someone only he could hear. Then Sunny calls me and asks me why you were on the radio which has me even more confused.” Dawn takes a breath, she’s speaking calmly enough that Marianne can understand her now.

“We realised you two were somehow talking to each other and checking Twitter saw that others were following your bizarre conversation too. Hashtag ToughGirl was trending within minutes; that’s your persona BTW. So Sunny and I set up everything for you, Facebook Page, Twitter account and email so people can email their request songs to you, how awesome is that?”

“Tough Girl?” Marianne asked, she thought her head was going to explode from information overload.

“Yeah, it’s what _he_ called you and it caught on pretty fast. Everyone loves you for standing up to him and fighting back. I think you even have shippers!” Dawn cried excitedly.

Marianne was afraid to ask but she bit anyway. “What is a shipper?” she asked rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“It’s like when people really want two other people to get together like in a book or TV show, but they’re like total opposites so it’s super unlikely.” Dawn explained. Marianne was right, she didn’t want to know.

Damn straight it was super unlikely, if Marianne ever did date again it would not be out with some bigoted jerk who worked at the only other radio station in the whole city.

“You guys are like you know Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet” Dawn suggested which had Marianne’s jaw dropping at the intellectual reference.

“You’ve read _Pride and Prejudice_?” Marianne asked aghast, she’d never seen Dawn read anything that wasn’t a celebrity tabloid.  

“Oh no” said Dawn confirming the worst, “I saw that movie though, oh what’s her name was in it.”

As Dawn struggled to remember Marianne volunteered “Keira Knightly”

“Meg Ryan” Dawn supplied.

 _You’ve Got Mail_ , Marianne’s brain supplied her sister’s arrant knowledge of _Pride and Prejudice_ had come from _You’ve Got Mail._ She decided not to inform Dawn that the two characters did in fact get together in the end.

The events of the previous night began to slowly come back to her.

After Swampy had played _Trouble_ she responded with _Hit Me with Your Best Shot_ , he in turn hit back with ELO’s _Don’t Bring me Down_ , one of her favourite songs by them. She kicked out with AC/ DC’s _TNT_ and he parried with Deep Purple’s _Mistreated_. By this point Marianne was furiously flicking through the collection she had on hand looking for something, anything to knock him off his stride. _Mistreated_ finished and she still didn’t have a comeback song there was silence in her studio and nothing but white noise filtering through the radio behind her. She wanted to send a message, something to let him know she was coming for him. Then the perfect song came to her, she was not backing out of this fight, she refused to loose.

~~***~~

The station had gone eerily quiet Bog’s staccato breathing the only sound filtering through his headphones. He wondered if he had somehow won this odd sort of fight he and the tough girl were having. Had she really given up? He didn’t want to admit it but the playing back and forth had been fun, it had challenged his mind coming up with answers to her questions. He didn’t want it to be over but part of him wanted to give her one final warning, something to dissuade her from pursuing this. He had the perfect song.

At the exact same time Marianne and Bog hit play in their respective stations safe in the knowledge they had just delivered the knock-out blow to their opponent. All over Meadow City it suddenly didn’t matter which station you were listening to because the same song was playing on both.

At first Bog thought the music he could hear was the feedback of his own selection but then quickly realised the issue. Heart’s _Straight on for You_ was being played on FAE right at this very moment.

~

Marianne couldn’t believe her ears what cruel twist of fate had blessed her and Swampy with the same taste in music? She couldn’t deny the fact she’d had a huge adrenaline rush picking the perfect songs to match up to his. It was an exercise in wit and one she had needed. Lately human interaction had become a tedious affair with her father basically forcing her to work with Roland every morning. When speaking with her father she always used as few words as possible and gave him few opportunities to mention her new anti-social streak. He was under the impression that if she didn’t love Roland there must be someone else. Why couldn’t her father understand she just wanted to be alone for a while? She had just got out of a relationship that had moved far too quickly and she wasn’t looking to make that mistake again. Besides she was young she could afford to be a little picky with her next partner. _Assuming there was going to be one_.

~~***~~

Bog wondered who the mystery late night host was. She sort of reminded him of Marianne but there was no way she could work the late shift and do early mornings. It must be someone new; he was mildly impressed with her, whoever she was. Their music preferences were similar enough it had Bog wondering what else they might have in common. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to converse with this woman. The truth of the matter being he was lonely. He had stopped looking for companionship on the sole belief he would never find it, had hidden his pain and discomfort about the topic behind a gruff indifferent exterior. He scorned others who fell in love not solely out of hate but also jealousy for what he could never have.

He’d never had a girlfriend; not really, he didn’t count the failed attempt at meeting someone online. He pushed away the countless women his mother had tried to throw at him simply out of spite for the fact she so desperately wanted grandchildren. How could he tell his mother that at 36 he hadn’t even been kissed? This tough girl though had him wanting to make that connection, not necessarily anything romantic just connecting with another human. It was time to dust off his old email account.

~~***~~

Marianne smiled up at the infectious joy Dawn seemed to be radiating. She had considered making last night’s stint a one-time gig but if she was as popular as Dawn led on what was stopping her from taking over late night radio in Meadow City? The King could take a back seat to the Princess.

“You said you set me up with an email account, do I have any messages yet?” Marianne asked giving her sister a sly half smile, one of her genuine ones.

Dawn grinned brightly back “I was hoping you’d ask.”

In no time at all the sisters were set up at the kitchen table with Dawn’s laptop and Marianne was skimming through the messages. There were about ten in total, some of them asked when she’d be on air again, some of them thanked her for giving them an alternative option to DARK as Swampy had become moody of late, all of them thought it was great a woman was finally taking over the late night radio scene. There was one email though that had her completely stumped, it read more like something you would find on a dating site, the compliments seemed genuine and the writer asked intelligent questions as though expecting her to answer back.

“Did you read this one Dawn?” Marianne asked her sister pointing to the email from a DragonWings.

“Yeah, I think you have an admirer” Dawn cooed, “ _Your taste in music is impeccable, I enjoyed every song you chose, it kept me on the edge of my seat wondering what you were going to play next_ ” Dawn quoted putting on a gruff male voice causing Marianne to laugh.

“ _Are you only going to play the same nights as Swampy? I look forward to listening to you again. Hope to hear from you soon, DragonWings_ ” Marianne read aloud sending her and Dawn into another fit of giggles.

“So are you?” Dawn asks when they’d finally settled down.

“Am I what?” Marianne asked defensively.

“Going to rock it out again” Dawn prompted, “will you only play the same nights as Swampy? He takes Saturday nights off remember. How will you work late nights and early mornings?”

These were all reasonable questions that Marianne didn’t have the answer to. She never worked Saturday or Sunday mornings but that didn’t help throughout the week, could she really work 10PM to Noon? Fatigue would show sooner rather than later.

“I don’t know” Marianne signed defeated.

She had really only planned on one night but she couldn’t deny the thrill she’d had being a foil to Swampy and she had fans, people who wanted her to do it again.

~~***~~

Bog had barely hit the send button when doubt started creeping in. He wished he could take the email back. DragonWings what a stupid name, he should have created a new email account for this. He thumped his forehead against his oak desk a few times for good measure.

Sending the email had been awfully impetuous of him but rushing to read the reply when his laptop made the unmistakable _ding_ was downright embarrassing. Tripping over a pile of dirty clothes sitting in the middle of his room did nothing to dampen his mood as Bog got back to his feet and calmly opened the new email.

_Dear DragonWings,_

_First of all I’d like to say thank-you for your kind comments and support. Last night was a trial run of sorts but I hope to have permission to continue in this vein. Late night radio has belonged to men for too long, just another field that needs a woman’s touch. I hope to be an inspiration to young girls everywhere. Looking back I wish I’d had a mentor in my field that I could look up to._

_Please tune in tomorrow night as I take on Swampy in Round Two._

_XOX Tough Girl_

So, she was planning to take him on again. Bog thought a cruel smile twisting its way across his face. Well this time he’d be ready.

~~***~~

“The bitch is back” Marianne growled out in that fake rough voice she put on when being Tough Girl before hitting play on Joan Janet’s _Bad Reputation_.

“Oh good, and I thought I was going to be _bored_ tonight” Swampy drawled in response. He followed suite with _Highway to Hell_.

Marianne squealed in near delight she had been afraid Swampy wouldn’t take her seriously, would ignore her this time. Sometimes she chose a song for the title and sometimes for a specific line. Her next selection was a bit of both.

~

Bog couldn’t help but grin at her next choice of song. He leaned back and listened to Nancy Sinatra croon _These Boots are made for Walkin_ ’ with undeniable pleasure. So, she thought she was going to burn him, _interesting_. He countered with the Eagles, _Heartache Tonight_. He liked it for the opening lines, “ Somebody's gonna hurt someone, Before the night is through” and he tapped his foot along to the catchy beat.

~

Marianne checked her phone as new requests came in through the email app Dawn had set up for her. She was slightly surprised to see a new one from DragonWings that had been sent shortly before Ten PM that night. The two had corresponded steadily since that first contact, Marianne finding it incredibly easy to type out her private thoughts to a stranger over the internet. She told him how she liked to watch old black and white films on rainy days that her favourite band was Electric Light Orchestra (ELO), and she preferred homemade macaroni and cheese to Kraft Dinner.

She in turn learned he liked to walk his dog Mushroom in Field Park on Sunday’s, hated all his mother’s cooking except for her lasagna, and also named ELO as his favourite band. She never asked what he did, feeling too exposed herself in him knowing she was a radio DJ.

This email was short and to the point, _“don’t worry I’ll be listening. P.S. tell me a secret”_. There was no addressing to her, and no signoff, just the message.

She wracked her brain trying to think of something to tell him that would qualify as a secret.

“ _I have a tattoo_ ” she typed out on the phone’s touch screen. She paused, should she give him the dirty details? “ _It’s of a purple butterfly. But I won’t tell you where_.” In her head the note was meant to be coy. Implying the tattoo was someplace scandalous when in reality it sat neatly on her shoulder blade. Technically only Dawn knew about it, a sign of her freedom from Roland after the disastrous non-wedding. Satisfied with her answer Marianne’s finger hovered over the send button, before deciding to add her own post script.  

~

A thrill of _something_ went through Bog upon receiving Tough Girl’s newest email. So, she had a tattoo did she? So far she was living up to her _bad reputation_ indeed. Bog blinked at the PS that followed the little note, not noticing it on his first read through. _“P.S. what song do you want to hear?”_ She wanted to play a song for him? He wanted to laugh at the irony but couldn’t help but feel extremely touched by her thoughtfulness. He was tempted to tell her to just pick something; he was running out of time as his own song was currently ending. He could tell her a song and then play the same one but they’d already done that on pure accident and Bog didn’t want to manufacture such a rare thing.

~~***~~

Marianne made it to Wednesday before she crashed, on live radio no less. Needing _something_ to do Dawn had joined the morning show acting as a referee between Marianne and Roland.  

“And now to Marianne for the weather” Dawn’s chipper voice broke through the gloom of the morning. Dark clouds hung low over the whole city threatening rain.

The soft sounds of breathing were all that filtered through Marianne’s mic.

“Ah, Buttercup?” Roland asks nervously, noticing her state.

Marianne gives an unattractive snort at the sound of Roland’s voice but otherwise pays him no mind. She is asleep.

Lizzie banged on the glass and motioned for Dawn to wrap it.

“Or, maybe we’ll play another song.” Dawn segued.

CCR’s _have you ever seen the rain_ started playing just as the clouds let go. It was a warn summer rain rendering the occupants of the city sticky with the muggy air.

“Marianne, it’s time to wake up” Dawn said rousing her sister.

Marianne raised her head from the table stifling a yawn, her hair sticking up on the one side and her eyes still sleep filled.

“Is it time for the show?” She asked.

“You missed the show” Dawn said apological.

Realisation dawned on Marianne and she let her head thump back to the table. She fell asleep on air. She really couldn’t do the late nights and early mornings, it was getting to be too much.

“Ugh” Dawn said suddenly with an air of disgust.

Marianne raised her head cautiously to see what had grossed out Dawn.

Nothing outrageous caught her eye, nothing out of the normal. Sunny had just came in and he was talking with Lizzie.

“Can you believe _her_?” Dawn hissed, clearly feeling slighted. “I mean could she be any more _obvious_.”

Marianne was too tired to process what Dawn was implying but then she noticed _how_ Lizzie was talking to Sunny. She was leaning casually on the control panel, her hand resting suggestively on her popped hip; it appeared Lizzie was flirting with the younger man.

“Can you _say_ Cougar?” Dawn huffed angrily.

A sudden though occurred to Marianne, Dawn was jealous. Marianne was suddenly very much awake. She had long suspected her sister harboured deeper feelings for the man she considered her best friend but Dawn was too proud to admit it. Often seeking Sunny’s help and advice when it came to her many failed first dates.

“Are you actually admitting you like him?” Marianne hissed in surprise at her sister.

“What” Dawn cried in outrage, “I do not! I just don’t think he should be with someone like _her_.”

Dawn was such a bad liar and Marianne had to work extra hard to supress a giggle when Sunny came in and Dawn marched out past him with an angry huff. Marianne flashed him a weak apologetic smile at his look of confusion. It was not her job to play match maker.

 


	5. Chapter 4

The rain continued into Wednesday afternoon. After a long and satisfying nap Marianne curled up on the couch to watch one of her favourite films. Her phone buzzed beside her and a little number **1** appeared next to the envelope indicating she had a new email.

_It’s raining Tough Girl, what movie are you watching?_

Her heart skipped a tiny beat at the message; he was sweet enough to remember she watched classic films on rainy days.

 _Casablanca_ she typed back. She liked the film because it wasn’t overly romantic, and (spoiler alert) Humphry Bogart and Ingrid Bergman _didn’t_ get together in the end and it had good music. For years she had wanted _As Time Goes By_ to be her wedding song but now the notes fell flat and tears pricked at her eyes as she mouthed the words in time to Ilsa, “ _play it Sam, play As Time Goes By_.”

Her phone buzzed again and without breaking eye contact with the TV she picked it up and clenched it to her chest. She had never before truly connected with Rick and his pain over hearing the song but now she knew. After Roland there were now songs that were off limits, she would never again be able to listen to Elvis croon _fools rush in_.

“What are you watching?” Dawn asked stopping in the doorway on her way down the hall.

Dawn didn’t appreciate the classics like Marianne did.  

Marianne ignored her in favour of checking her email, the harsh glow of the tiny screen lighting the soft expression on her face. Dawn came into the room a devious smile on her face.

“Who are you talking to?” Dawn asked curiously. No one had ever made Marianne look like that before.  

“Just DragonWings” Marianne said nonchalantly.

“Promise me something” Dawn said, coming further into the room and sitting down beside her sister, “if DragonWings ever asks to meet you in person, say yes.”

“Why?” Marianne asked, slightly confused.

“I saw the way you were just looking at your phone” Dawn said sympathetically, she knew that look. It was how _she_ looked when she received a text from Sunny.

Her sister deserved a second chance at love, a real chance. She and Sunny were different; they’d been friends for far too long. He’d never accept her feelings about him and she wouldn’t jeopardize their friendship by admitting them.

A small smile played on Marianne’s lips, _had it been that obvious_? “Okay, I promise.”

Something had changed inside Marianne, that night when she went on air as Tough Girl she no longer felt hallow and bogged down by emotions. She was well rested and ready to rock and roll.

~

Swampy’s ratings had steadily been climbing all week as his and Tough Girl’s exchanges grew in intensity. His admiration growing for her with ever dig directed at him, every thinly veiled insult, and the secret knowledge he was getting to know the vulnerable person inside that gruff exterior. Earlier today he’d learned she loved watching _Casablanca_ , was this really the same girl who rocked out to AC/DC, KISS, and Joan Janet on a nightly basis?

Just as he had the thought _I Love Rock N’ Roll_ came blaring through the radio behind him, the one still tuned into FAE. That was one of the many things he liked about her. She had an ability to read his mind and yet always managed to surprise him with her next choice. His mind drifted off and he didn’t really look as he picked his next song.

~

Marianne was more than a little surprised when her _I Love Rock N’ Roll_ was met with The Ramones _What I Like About You_.

~

Bog violently cursed himself out for the slip up. It was fine for _DragonWings_ to harbour a crush on Tough Girl but no one could know ‘Swampy’ had gone soft. He had to think of a cover and fast. He is saved from babbling excuses by the radio behind him which promptly spits out Georgia Satellites _Keep Your Hands to Yourself_.  

He laughs then, deep and real bringing him to the point of tears and it echoes through the empty room. Knowing she hasn’t lost her edge he responds in kind with the Eagles _Witchy Woman_.

~

A lesser woman might have been offended by the song choice but Marianne took it as a complement and even sang along. The clock slowly ticked past midnight and Marianne played ABBA’s _Gimme, Gimme, Gimme_. It was kind of a low blow and she didn’t know how Swampy would take it. Fortunately he seemed to take it with good humour as he replied with Scorpions _Rock You like a Hurricane_. The song had her blushing ferociously even if he didn’t mean it they had gone from hurting insults at each other through song lyrics to basically having sex through songs. Gripped with indecision Marianne made a bold move when she picked up the phone to call the other station. She was sure their _shippers_ were worked into a frenzy and Marianne wanted to have a little more fun with that.  

~

Bog honestly didn’t know what had come over him, how was _that_ a good choice? The ABBA song had gotten to him though, filling his head with false illusions and unspoken promises that she wanted him. _Here I am_ , he had thought and the song had been a natural selection. The phone rang and he picked it up with shaking hands.

“Hello caller, you’re on the air.” His voice didn’t tremble too badly and he kept his rough brogue intact. Any remaining control he had was lost when the other person spoke with a sultry stage whisper.

“Hey there Swampy” she says, her rough voice rolling over him, through him causing him to shudder.

He makes an intelligent reply, something like “Nnggh” and feels himself slowly turn into a puddle. When his mother finds him in the morning she will need a mop to clean him up off the floor.

The tough girl gives a light giggle of pleasure, glad to know her attack was successful. “I just wanted to say you’re doing a great job tonight.”

His gulp is audible over the phone line, _why-oh-why_ does it sound like she’s trying to seduce him. What’s worse is he thinks it is working.

“We have quite the fans _Swampy_ , they think we have a secret relationship” she tells him and he’s more than a little surprised, this is news to him.

“Now I wouldn’t want to encourage these rumors” she says, sounding like she means the exact opposite, “but even if we were, I’d never tell.” With a soft click she hangs up the phone.

The next song she plays is The Go-Go’s _Our Lips are sealed_.

~~***~~

“I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody. Yeah! I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me!” Dawn sang in the shower as she was getting ready.

Marianne knocked on the bathroom door interrupting her sister’s singing. What Dawn lacked in skill she made up for in enthusiasm.

“When you’ve finished defiling Whitney Huston’s memory did you want to hurry it up a bit?” Marianne spat out.

Dawn always took ages to get ready for anything and this was a very special night indeed. In fact it was probably the only occasion that could have pulled Marianne from her observances in being alone. For the first time in weeks Marianne was going out with the sole purpose to have fun. It was Dawn’s 21st birthday and Marianne was doing everything she could to make it a singular event.

Marianne was curled up on her bed staring thoughtfully at her phone when Dawn came into her room to let her know she was ready. She was wearing a new blue dress, her short blonde hair was curled, and her makeup looked perfect. She stopped dead when she saw Marianne.

“You are _not_ wearing that” Dawn scrutinized her sister.

Marianne took a moment to appraise her own outfit, she was wearing her favourite pair of naturally ripped up jeans, she refused to buy into the fad of pre-ripped jeans, and an oversized off the shoulder t-shirt. Her hair was a tangled mess from driving around in her bug with the roof down, she never used hair product.

“Tonight is not about me Dawn, it’s about you” Marianne explained, “No one gives a shit what I look like, and besides this is comfy.”

Dawn shook her head, “I care. Not in like a shellfish vain way” Dawn explained quickly, “but in a ‘I’m your sister and I want what’s best for you’ way. When was the last time you brushed your hair?”  

“Uhh” Marianne was stunned, she couldn’t remember.

“That’s what I thought.” Dawn smiled, she loved her sister for all her faults, but sometimes honestly it was like she forgot who she was.

“You are beautiful Marianne and I only do this out of the goodness of my heart, now put on something sexy. When you look good, you feel good. Tonight is about going out and having fun.” Dawn argued eloquently.

“You know it’s not all about looks” Marianne shot back; begrudgingly she began undressing, when Dawn got an idea into her head there was no arguing. “It’s what’s on the inside that counts” she quipped.

“And don’t you want the outside to reflect what’s on the inside? Just for tonight?” Dawn urged, “Tomorrow you can go back to looking like a slob. Now where are your leggings and that really cute purple dress?”

“I don’t have a purple dress” Marianne said as Dawn pulled a purple garment from her closet.

“What do you call this then?” Dawn asked, smirking.

“That’s not a dress, it’s a top.” Marianne replied there was no way she was wearing it as a dress, even with leggings. It barely covered her butt and the back was open in a wide V, fluttery extra fabric hung down the sides that, when she twirled, gave the impression she had wings.

When it was all said and done Marianne held her tongue as she gazed at the near unrecognizable reflection in the mirror. Dawn had been right, not only did she look hot she felt a slight rise in confidence. It was amazing what a little effort could do. Marianne had been lacking in drive since calling things off with Roland, she had felt no need to be impressed or to impress others.

She didn’t feel as exposed as she thought she would, though she kept tugging at the hem of the shirt willing it to grow two inches. Dawn had done her makeup for her, dark purple eyeshadow now coloured her lids and her lips were tinted with a matching colour. Purple leather boots encased her legs up to her knees.

~~***~~

Halfway across the city Bog was having a similar argument with his mother.

“I’m a grown man” he spat at his mother, “ye’ cannae tell me what ta do.”

“Sherman I am your mother, and I will tell you what to do so long as I live” she was pointing a very angry finger at him and the scolding made him feel like he was 6 not 36.

“It’s a nice Saturday night, you don’t have to work. Take a night off and go out and have some fun. Stuff and Thang have already agreed to meet you at the club.” Griselda urged. She hated seeing her son so unhappy, she could tell he was lonely even though he’d never admit it.

“Fine” he acquiesced, throwing his arms in the air and heading for the door, he just wasn’t in the mood to argue with his mother tonight.

“And put on a clean shirt” she called after him, making him turn around and head back towards his room.

He picked out a black t-shirt with an album cover on it and a pair of black jeans. This of course described most of his wardrobe. He threw on his matching black jean-jacket and was headed back out to the door in no time.

“Well, well don’t you look handsome” his mother called to him.

Bog caught his reflection in the hallway mirror and gave a bit of a grimace. ‘Handsome’ was not a word he would have chosen.

“Awe, you have your father’s smile” Griselda said, coming to stand by him, wrapping an arm around his hunched shoulders.

For a moment then he really looked at himself in the mirror, something he had never done before. His hair was still stuck up in the front, from where he constantly ran his fingers through it, and his teeth were still crooked, but there was an air of confidence about him a new light shone out of his blue eyes, his one redeeming feature in his opinion.

“Here let me drive you” Griselda offered grabbing the car keys off the table.

“Mother no” Bog protested. His mother was wearing an old pair of flip-flops and something that better fitted the description of a beach cover-up than a dress. “It’s fine.”

“No really I don’t mind.” Griselda argued leading the way out of the apartment and down the hall, “I’ll help you find a nice girl at the club.”

Bog rammed his forehead into his hands but no amount of face-palming was going to get him out of this. Sometimes he just had to let his mother get her way.

~~***~~

 

Sunny greeted them outside the club, together they walked right past the gathering line-up and straight up to the menacing looking bouncer seated outside the door.  

“They’re with me” Sunny said, flashing his DJ badge and the slab of meat nodded admitting them.

Steeping into the cool darkness of the club was like steeping into another world. Lights flashed and the music was a thumping wordless beat. It was exotic. Marianne swivelled her head left and right looking for anyone she might recognize, but as she didn’t know that many people; the faces were a meaningless blur.

A live band was playing now, doing a damn fine job keeping the patrons up on the dance floor. When the band needed a break it would be Sunny’s turn to spin some records.

“Thank you so much” Dawn cooed releasing Sunny from a tight hug, “it’s going to be the best night ever!”

“It already is” Sunny said a dazed expression on his face.

“Want me to get you girls a drink?” Sunny asked, “It’s on me.”

“Just a sprite for me please Sunny” Marianne requested.

“Ooh, surprise me” Dawn squealed with pent up glee. Dawn wasn’t exactly innocent in her experience with alcohol but one long night of getting sick had sworn her off the stuff until she was of legal age.

In no time Sunny was sauntering back over to them, two glasses in hand.

“Sprite for Marianne” he said handing her the smaller of the glasses “and a Blue Lagoon for Dawn. Happy Birthday” Sunny handed off the glass with a smile and watched as Dawn immediately took a lengthy sip.

Dawn lit up her eyes in pleasure at the tastes assaulting her tongue.

“Oh, that is _so_ good” she exclaimed, “do you want a sip?” she offered to Marianne.

“Nah, I’m good.” She excused.

“Killjoy” Dawn accused.

“I am not” Marianne huffed frustrated. Her sister never thought things out. “Just remember I have to drive your drunk ass home later.”

“I know, that’s why you’re the best sister ever.” Dawn threw an arm around her sister much to Marianne’s annoyance. Not even one drink in and the touchy-feely crap was already starting.

“Well you know I wish I could hang out with you girls all night but my set is about to start.” Sunny said thumbing in the direction of the stage. “Wish me luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little short but the next one will be a little longer.   
> P.S. Social Media aka Twitter and the Shippers are this stories equivalent to the gossiping Mushrooms.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait on this one. I've had this done for a while but was waiting for the right time to post it. Things got a little busy over Christmas. Hope it's worth the wait!

Marianne retreated to the darkest corner of the club, furthest from the bulk of the crowd in her efforts to elude Roland. She didn’t want him here ruining Dawn’s birthday. Maybe if he thought she left he would leave too. Dawn had returned from the bar with a second drink and she informed her Roland had been sleazing around asking all sorts of questions but in the end paid for her drink.

She wasn’t there very long when she sensed a presence behind her. Assuming the worst, that Roland had discovered her hiding place, Marianne curls her tiny hand into a tight fist and swings around poised to deliver a smarting right hook. She’s only too pleased when her hit connects and her victim gives a satisfying moan of pain. Almost instantly she can tell it’s not Roland.

“Oh my gosh I am so sorry” Marianne apologizes, rushing to get the words out to the bent over figure who is still clutching at his jaw. “I thought you were someone else” and the excuse sounds hollow to her own ears.

“I’m fine” a rough voice comes out as the man stands up to his full height. “That was quite the punch though I hope who ever that was meant for deserves it.” He chides.

It’s hard to make out his features in the dark but she can tell he’s very tall a good two feet and several inches taller than her. He pushes against his jaw, cracking his neck in the process.

“I thought you were my ex” Marianne offers a half smile in her defense.

A stray light shines over Marianne’s face illuminating her smile and it takes a moment for her companion to regain his composure and thought process.

“Ah” he says, Bog didn’t have an ex to compare to so instead he asks “Is your hand okay?” It’s hard to talk in the club, the sound levels forcing him to pronounce each of his words giving his voice a different lit to when he’s on the radio.

Marianne shook it out then flexed her fingers a bit. It burned slightly from the drag of his stubble and there might be some mild swelling but nothing she couldn’t handle. “Its fine” she brushed off.

“Good” Bog nodded his head but doubted she could see it in the dark.

“So, is that what you’re doing in this corner?” he asked, “hiding?” as soon as the question was out Bog knew he’d made a terrible mistake. That was awfully personal question.

She called him out on his bullshit too, “Kinda personal, don’t ya think?” Marianne said, a dark edge creeping into her voice.

Bog was on the verge of trying to find the words to apologize, his fingers tapping nervously together when the girl let out a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, pretty crowdedly hun?” She admitted. “Can’t even confront some asshole” she said defeated, not least of all she didn’t want to cause a scene on account of Dawn.

Bog rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly a nervous tick he’d picked up somewhere; giving advice wasn’t exactly his forte, especially when it came to women. But he _did_ know what he would have done if ever in that situation.

“Why didn’t you just leave when you saw him?” Bog resisted the urge to slap his own forehead, what another stupid question. Here he was actually having a conversation with a real woman, one his mother hadn’t forced on him, and he basically just told her to go.

“I can’t, tonight is my sister’s birthday and she had her heart set on coming here.” It’s not a lie, “Her best friend is the DJ” she adds as if that makes it okay.

Sunny seemed to take that as a cue picking up his mic he gave a little shout out, “booty’s prepare to be shook!”

The crowd cheered as Michael Franti’s _Say Hey!_ Started playing, it was shaping up to be the summer’s number one song. Sunny’s most requested on _Tunes @ Noon._

Marianne looked up in time to see Sunny set down his mic and place his thumbs and forefingers together creating a heart, most likely directed at Dawn. It had long been their weird little greeting symbol.

“Nice mic” Marianne said aloud starling herself. There was no way this guy was into recording equipment.

Bog looked back up to the stage, not having paid much attention to the short DJ before.

“SM57” he said without thinking. There was no way this girl wanted to hear him talk about good quality audio tech. At least she seemed to know a good mic when she saw one an SM57 was one of the best.

Marianne’s jaw momentarily dropped, this guy knew about microphones? Finding common ground Marianne decided to continue the conversation.

“Back in collage I had an audio instructor who used to say the three things to survive a nuclear explosion would be cockroaches, Keith Richards, and an SM57.” For a moment there was silence, fearing the joke had fallen flat Marianne made to recover when the man standing next to her let out a howl of genuine laughter.

Marianne quickly found herself giggling along, no one else had ever laughed at that joke before. Not even Roland.

Bog liked the sound of her laugh he wanted to hear it again. He also found himself impressed by her intimate knowledge of microphones. Not that he would ever admit it.

“Virtually indestructible” Bog agreed when he could breathe again, “You can stir your coffee with it in the morning, build a deck with it in the afternoon, and still use it to sing that night.”

Bog’s anecdote sent them into another fit of laughter.

At last Marianne stuck out her hand, “Marianne” she said smiling brightly, and slightly flushed.

Bog smiled back, his face accommodating the unfamiliar gesture easily. “Bog” he said extending his own large hand, to shake her smaller one.

“Is that a first or last name?” Marianne asked coyly.

“Does it matter?” He asked back and Marianne realised no it didn’t matter at all.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m hiding from my mother” Bog admitted. He did not do socializing well that was the last thing he should have said. He felt like turning around and ramming his whole head through the brick wall.

He saw her smile before she covered it with her hand.

“She keeps trying to set me up on awful dates” he explained, dear lord that made it sound even worse. Was it getting warmer in here? He unzipped his jacket in an effort to cool down some.

“Hey is that an ELO t-shirt?” she asked pointing at his chosen garment, saving them both from conversation suicide.  

“Now how would you know that?” he asked back skeptically, he may not know her exact age but she appeared a far bit younger than him, “a bit before your time I think” he said smirking.

“Are you kidding, they’re my favourite band” she shouted back at him. “Out of the Blue, right?” she quipped naming the album cover depicted on his shirt front.

“Mine too” he said without even realizing, “You know, you’re the second person I’ve talked to this week who’s said that” he admitted remembering his earlier communications with Tough Girl.

“Crazy, same here” Marianne said, “What are the chances? Maybe we talked to the same person.” Marianne had a nagging feeling about this, what were the chances more than three ELO fans lived in Meadow City?

The more they talked the more Marianne realised they had in common. She would have been happy leaning against the wall talking to Bog all night but something had to give.

“Shit” she hissed suddenly, cutting off Bog in the middle of him telling a story.

Bog looked up following her line of sight she seemed to be watching the movements of a blonde haired main in a green dress shirt and vest making his way through the crowd. Bog thought the man looked familiar but couldn’t place where he might have seen him before.

Marianne groaned and sunk further down the wall, “Roland, just go away” she moaned in frustration.

 _Roland?_ Bog thought, as in _Roland and Marianne_ , as in… Bog looked down at Marianne “that’s your ex?” he asked accusingly.

Marianne was on the floor now, her hands coving her face, she nodded. Something he only just perceived. They had been having such a nice time too. It had been a long time since Marianne had just _talked_ to somebody, except for DragonWings. She shook her head in frustration standing back up why would she be thinking of him now?

“I need your help with something” Marianne said, stepping closer to Bog.

Bog began looking frantically around, “sure anything, what can I do to help, just tell me and…”

His rambling was abruptly cut off as Marianne grabbed at his jean jacket collar and pulled his head down level with hers in a motion she knew would hurt him tomorrow. She only felt slightly guilty as she whispered in to the space between them, “stop talking” and pushed their heads together.

The kiss caught him off guard he had no idea what to do. Marianne’s hands ran through the short hair at the back of his scalp. His arms hung limp at his side as she awkwardly forced their lips together. He keeps his eyes open for the duration of the encounter. Instinct kicked in and he began to breathe through his nose. He caught her scent, not perfume he thinks, it must be her shampoo. It reminds him of something wild and untamed.

She positioned Bog in away so that his long lean frame would hide her completely from view. Marianne inhaled expertly though her nose and takes in the scent of Bog. He smells like the forest at night she decides and it’s intoxicating. She inhales again picking out the individual scents, cedar, crushed mint, and a hint of lime. She likes it. It’s the exact opposite of Roland with his scent of Lavender. Bog smells like a man, she thinks, _not_ a flower garden.

Marianne remembers the way Roland’s kissing always tasted too sweet, like tea and honey, she had the sudden impulse to purge herself of that memory forever. She darts her tongue out and licks along the seam of Bog’s lips and he parts them in surprise admitting her tongue. Bog is clearly not an expert kisser; he’s angled himself away from her so only their lips are touching. She instantly feels bad for putting him in this situation. He’s clearly not comfortable around people and has next to no experience with woman. Not that she has much more, Roland being her first and only. Not a great example to set scores by.

“Sorry” she apologizes taking a step away from Bog and his delicious scent, “I didn’t mean to drag you into that. I just really didn’t want to start a scene here in public.”

Before Marianne can do damage control and get them back to safe ground she notices the scene going on behind Bog’s head.

“That’s my sister up there!” she shouts nearly deafening Bog, “somebody get her down NOW!”

She marches away and Bog notices how the strange pieces of fabric on the back of her shirt flutter giving the appearance she has wings. A spot light slid across her back and that’s when he saw it, the _purple butterfly tattoo_ peeking out from under the fabric up by her shoulder.

He shook his head as she disappeared into the crowd; it had to be a coincidence. Lots of girls had butterfly tattoos. Still, Bog felt a lurch in his chest, an uncomfortable pulling sensation as though she had just walked away with his heart. That was ridiculous. He was at war with himself, to stay in this dark corner or step out into the light.

He couldn’t let her get away, what if he never saw her again? He pushed himself away from the wall, out of the sanctuary of the shadows, “Wait” he called after her, his voice getting lost in the music.

He hadn’t taken two strides when someone with a firm grip grabbed at his wrist. He turned to see a stout woman with messy faded red hair and groaned.

“Mother, not now” he pleaded trying desperately to pull his arm free but her grasp held.

“Honey, I’d like you to meet Lynda” she said, indicating the poor woman she had dragged over to force on him this time.

Bog hardly spared her a glance then did a double take. She was tall, almost his height. Pale never-ending legs snaked out from a barely there mini-skirt. A diamond stud winked at him from her nose and too small black hoops protruded from her bottom lip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two quips about the SM 57 microphone I got from an actual recording engineer. I took film school a while back and we all had to take an audio course the teacher was really funny.


End file.
